


A Regency Tale

by foxtales



Series: Permanently Unfinished [9]
Category: British Actor RPF, The Lord of the Rings RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, Angst, Chimney Sweeps, Gen, Historical References, Hurt/Comfort, Most of the players in this story have either been aged up or down, however there are no squicks with how I've written it nor why I needed it to be that way.
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-02
Packaged: 2021-02-28 05:15:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22988512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foxtales/pseuds/foxtales
Summary: Thanks to pippinmctaggart for the fabulous beta and dicorvo for the spot checks. Also thanks to canciona, elouisa and vensre who all saw this in various stages and gave me encouragement to continue.
Series: Permanently Unfinished [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1638784





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to pippinmctaggart for the fabulous beta and dicorvo for the spot checks. Also thanks to canciona, elouisa and vensre who all saw this in various stages and gave me encouragement to continue.

London, England 1801

“MOTHER!” Dominic ran into the house pell-mell, skidding to a stop in front of his mother and her guests in the sitting room.

Aureen Monaghan, Lady Sommersby, put down her needlework. Her youngest son had excess energy in spades and long experience had taught her that once worked up like this, anything but calm would only make him worse. She paid no mind to the other ladies who were smirking at her “untameable cub” and focused all of her attention on him. “What is it, Dominic?” she asked evenly.

“There’s a—“

Miss Miranda Otto, nanny to Dominic and his older brother Matthew, entered the room with much more decorum but just as much urgency on her face. “Pardon the interruption, milady, but there is something, I fear, that requires your immediate attention.”

Dominic looked between his nanny and his mother, nodding repeatedly, before turning and rushing out of the room as fast as he’d come in. Aureen turned to her guests. “If you will excuse me, please.” They waved her away, even as they began trying to guess what was happening.

Dominic was hopping from foot to foot by the servants staircase. “Good Lord, Dominic, what **is** it?” she asked, her tone still only mildly exasperated.

Dom grabbed his mother’s hand and pulled her toward the stairs. “Down here, Mama, down here!”

Her son’s urgency hurried her faster than was perhaps seemly in a well-bred lady, and Miranda followed close behind on the stairs. At the bottom, they took an immediate left to the servants kitchen. In his haste, Dominic let go of his mother’s hand and pushed through the door.

Aureen turned to Miranda, eyebrows raised in alarm. “Where’s Matthew?”

“Matthew is fine, milady. He’s just in there and never been healthier in his life. It’s…there’s been an accident, though, and…”

“An accident? Involving whom?”

Just then her eldest son Matthew poked his head around the door. “Mother, you must hurry! Mrs. Cranston won’t do anything without your say so and he needs help!”

Aureen entered the kitchen to see a blackened form lying on a pile of dirty cloth on the table, Maggie the scullery maid gently wiping at it with a rag. At first she thought it was an animal but as she came closer, she realized it was a small boy. “My God, has he been burned?” she cried, her hands flying to her mouth.

“No, Lady Sommersby,” Miranda replied evenly. “He is a chimney sweep. ‘Tis only the soot you see, not burns.”

“Then why…”

“Oh, milady,” Cranston the housekeeper cried, out of sorts. “Maggie, Miss Otto and your boys brought him here, why I don’t know. He don’t belong here, he belongs at the workhouse with the other ‘weeps!”

“He does NOT,” Dominic yelled. He turned wide, pleading eyes on his mother. “They had him at the workhouse and they just dumped him on the street! We saw them!”

Aureen gasped even as she looked over at Miranda to confirm her son’s claims.

“It’s true, milady,” Miranda answered the silent question. “There were actually two boys but the other was already dead. I—we couldn’t just leave him there.”

“No one deserves that!” Maggie said forcefully from her position next to the child. “He’s just a boy!”

“You’ll not speak unless her Ladyship asks you a question, girl,” Cranston said crossly.

Maggie lowered her eyes, but her face and shoulders were still set.

Aureen looked at her scullery maid and saw her determined stance. The girl didn’t look to be much more than eighteen but it was obvious that she’d not seen the best life had to offer in that time.

“Should we send for some medical aid?” Miranda asked hesitantly.

Aureen sighed. “Will Dr. Michaels see him, do you think?”

Miranda bit her lip. “’Tis not Dr. Michaels I was thinking of, but Bloom.”

“Dr. Bloom?” Aureen shook her head. “I’ve not heard of him.”

“He don’t tend your class,” Maggie muttered as she bent over the boy on the table, gently brushing his arm.

“I—“ Aureen watched the tenderness with which the girl touched the injured child and couldn’t be upset at the impertinence. “Yes, of course, send for him. Go!”

Miranda gently pushed Maggie toward the door and then touched Aureen’s arm. “Leave the child to us, milady. Please do not worry. Maggie shall fetch Bloom and all will be well.”

Aureen looked at Miranda for a long moment. “The boys…”

“Will be fine here with me.”

Aureen nodded, looked once more at the still form on the table, and then, with a fortifying breath, left the room to attend to her guests. Cranston huffed out, furious at being undercut.

Miranda gestured Matthew and Dominic to her side. “We’ll have to finish cleaning him, lads. Orlando will need to be able to see if anything is outwardly wrong.”

Dominic obediently began to run a wet rag over one arm, Matthew taking the other with Miranda carefully rubbing at the small chest. They all jumped at the thin reedy mewl the boy let out as he flailed weakly; his eyes snapping open as he tried to get away.

“Hush, child, no one is trying to hurt you,” Miranda said in a low, calm tone. “Be still now.”

The dull green eyes tried to search out the truth of her words. “Mam?”

“I’m not your mam, love,” Miranda said sadly, running a fingertip down the side of the child’s dirty face. _But I am going to help you get better and then maybe we can find her if she’s still alive._

His eyes closed at the gentle touch and soothing tone. He lay back, submitting to their attentions, a fragile body and a seemingly broken spirit encased in soot.

An hour later the boy was as clean as they could get him with a rag wash, and had been wrapped in an old blanket. They’d moved him up to Miranda’s room and Matthew stood guard outside, determined not to let anyone in but the esteemed Bloom. The boy lay still on the bed, eyes closed, head turned away from the door.

“What’s wrong with him?” Dominic whispered loudly.

“He’s waiting, Dominic,” Miranda sighed.

“For what?”

“I don’t know,” she replied, her hand dropping lightly to Dom’s shoulder. “Maybe to see if he’s to be beaten or taken away.”

Dominic broke away from his nanny and rushed to the bed. “Don’t worry, you won’t be beaten here,” he said, patting the other child’s shoulder none too gently.

There was a low hiss as the boy on the bed flinched from the touch.

“Carefully, Dom,” Miranda reminded her exuberant charge.

Dominic’s fingers lifted their pressure immediately and stretched out, brushing lightly over the rough and chapped skin. “It’ll be all right,” he murmured as he gently stroked the shoulder and arm.

A shudder wracked the emaciated body and Dom bit his lip and looked up at Miranda. After a moment’s pause, he began his soothing motion again. It wasn’t impossible to heal wounds of the spirit, Dom knew. It took work and patience but he’d done it with Tuppence, the cat he’d found and rescued from the streets, and he was sure he could do the same for this boy.

When he looked down again, he saw his charge had opened his eyes. He met the world-weary gaze squarely, his fingers tightening minutely on the upper arm. “We’ll take care of you, I promise. You’re safe now.”

As if unable to hold Dom’s earnest gaze, the boy’s eyes slid shut again, but he did not turn his head away and Dom continued on with his careful strokes.

Maggie climbed out of the carriage and raced into the rundown building they’d stopped in front of, up the rickety stairs to the first floor. She turned right at the top of the stairs and banged hard enough on the door to rattle it on its hinges. There was no answer so she thumped again, this time calling out, “Orlando!”

After repeating once more, the door swung open to reveal a tall, almost painfully thin man whose curly hair fell about his head in disarray. He blinked owlishly and ran his hand across his face. “Maggie, what—“

“Your services are needed.”

Orlando’s eyes slid closed. “Mag, can’t we schedule this? I’ve only just got to sleep—“

Maggie laid her hand on his arm. “This isn’t a ‘female issue,’ Orlando,” she said earnestly. “There’s a boy, a chimney sweep, and he’s been injured. No credible doctor would waste time on him and he needs help.”

Bloom winced at the ‘credible doctor’ remark before sighing and scrubbing his hand over his face again. “All right, Mag, all right. Come in while I…” He didn’t finish his sentence, only turned and disappeared back into the room.  
Maggie followed, shutting the door and sitting on the corner of his rumpled bed. He was back in front of her a few moments later, pulling his braces over his shoulders and then buttoning up the shirt he’d just put on.

“Ready.”

Grabbing his hand, Maggie led him down to the coach. He greeted the driver, whose ribs he’d bound two weeks ago, by name and then they were off for the Monaghan estate.

“Aren’t you even going to attempt to tame those curls, Orlando?” Maggie said to him from across the coach a few minutes into their trip.

“I’m going to tend to a chimney sweep, Mag,” he replied dryly. “Do you think it will matter to him very much?”

“Well I just didn’t think you were going to go to the house of a _Peer_ looking as though you’d just rolled out of bed.”

“I _did_ just roll out of bed.”

“True but you don’t have to look it. Here,” she said, leaning over and reaching up to help with his hair, “let me.”

Bloom gently captured her hands. “Mag, I’ve worked all night and I’ve had less than two hours sleep. I really couldn’t give a hang about the state of my person right now.”

Maggie settled back on her seat and eyed him before sighing. “Miranda will be there.”

Orlando shook his head, a half-smile forming. “You fail utterly at making matches, Margaret Boyd.”

“I haven’t failed, Orlando. I’ve only just begun.”  
  
“God save us,” he muttered, winking as Maggie began to chuckle.

The coach pulled up in front of a series of elegant townhomes. Maggie led Orlando around the back of the end house and down toward the servants kitchen. Cook informed them that “the waif” had been moved to Miss Miranda’s room to make space for the preparation of luncheon. Maggie sighed and headed up the stairs to the third floor. At the head of the stairs, they saw Matthew standing at the door.

“On sentry duty then?” Orlando said, smiling down at the boy.

“Dr. Bloom?” he asked very seriously.

“Just Bloom, Matthew,” he replied. “The boy is in this room?”

Matthew nodded and opened the door.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to pippinmctaggart and dicorvo for the lovely betas. ♥

Bloom entered the room, Maggie right behind him. He could see the supine form on the bed; on the right side another young boy sat gently stroking the injured child’s arm and shoulder, on the left Miranda sat wiping the still dirty forehead with a cloth.

His practiced eye caught the dislocation of the left shoulder immediately and he moved forward, his hand coming to rest briefly on Miranda’s shoulder.

“Hello, Bloom,” she said softly, the small smile she greeted him with at odds with the worry in her eyes.

“Miss Otto,” he said just as softly. He gently squeezed her shoulder, and she gave one more careful swipe with the cloth before placing it back in its bowl of water and backing out of Bloom’s way.

Dull green eyes flew open as the boy felt the bed shift. He saw the tall man bending over him and whimpered in terror. Bloom stopped moving immediately, his brown eyes calm. “You’ve been hurt, lad. I’m here to help you now,” he crooned in a low, soothing tone.

Dominic stroked the boy’s arm again. “’s true,” he said, nodding as the boy’s gaze turned to him. If Miss Miranda and Maggie said Bloom could help, then Dom believed them, and he would make sure the other boy believed it as well.

“What’s your name, then, lad?” Orlando asked as he gently ran his hands over the frail body searching for other injuries.

“Wi…William…” the child managed in a voice hoarse from lack of use.

Maggie gasped sharply, but said nothing, allowing Orlando’s attention, momentarily turned to her, to go back to his patient.

“Had a fall in your work?”

“Aye,” came that croaking voice and then a slight flinch and his brows pulled in before he amended himself. “Meant…t’say…yes.”

Dominic and Matthew looked at each other, confused by the sudden current of anger in the room.

Orlando cursed under his breath, angry, as always, that a modern and civilised society would allow such a fate to befall one of its citizens, no matter the class or manner of speech. If either of the other boys in this room had been injured in such a way, they would have been cared for immediately, not beaten or worse for speaking their own dialect. He had no idea how long young William had had this dislocation, but he feared it might already be too late for the boy to regain full use of his left arm.

“What have you found, Dr. Bloom?” Lady Sommersby’s cultured voice came from behind them and everyone in the room, previously engrossed in Bloom’s exploration of the patient, turned quickly to face her.

“Just Bloom, milady,” he said, making his leg.

Aureen waved him off. “Can you save—”

The bedroom door flew open, slamming against the back wall. William startled and tried to back away, crying out in alarm and pain. Orlando instinctively moved between the door and the boy, intent on the intruder, and not even noticing that Dominic began to rub William’s good shoulder and arm again.

“ _Mr._ Bloom,” came a low voice dripping with venom as the Mr. was emphasized.

Orlando tensed. “Sommersby.”

“ _Lord_ Sommersby to the likes of _you_.”

“The lad doesn’t have time for this, James,” Bloom replied, dragging his hand through his curls. “Must he suffer for our past failings?”

Sommersby’s blue eyes widened, first in outrage at being referred to by his Christian name; then in realization, as he caught sight of the frightened child on the bed, his own son attempting to calm him. He released an explosive sigh. “Treat the boy, and then get out of this house,” he said, voice deceptively even.

“My Lord,” Bloom said with no hidden intent as he turned back to the injured child. He could ask no more from the livid man standing by the door.

Sommersby looked over to the bed one last time and met Dominic’s imploring gaze. He turned and left the room, his tread heavy on the stairs.

“How do you know James?” Aureen asked quietly. “How is it that…”

“Lady Sommersby, please,” Bloom broke in before turning to Maggie. “I’ll need laudanum if I’m to reduce this shoulder. I won’t have him awake for that. Go as fast as ever you can, Mag, we haven’t a moment to lose.”

Maggie ran out of the room and Orlando felt a small hand on his arm. He looked down into Dominic’s worried face. “Yes, young Master?”

“Please, sir, will it hurt too terribly much?”

When Bloom answered, he looked into dull green eyes, not Dominic’s blue. “It will hurt, that’s why the laudanum, William. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” came the harsh whisper. William knew pain, had lived with it in varying stages since he’d been in the Workhouse. He had vague memories of being held, cuddled, loved, but it was as if in a dream, not anything concrete in his life.

“Good lad,” Orlando said quietly, lightly brushing the sweaty hair off the child’s forehead. “The worst will be over soon.”

Maggie came rushing back within minutes, a dark bottle and a cup in her hands. Aureen watched as Bloom measured out a dose in the cup and held it steady as William put his mouth to the rim. He drank it slowly, his frightened eyes not leaving Orlando’s steady and soothing gaze until the lids slid shut and he was under.

Bloom checked pulse, breathing and reflexes before stretching the injured limb straight out from the boy’s body. He looked over at Miranda. “Be so good as to hold his right shoulder down on the bed, won’t you?”

Miranda nodded and moved quickly to secure the arm.

“When it moves, it will make a grotesque sound, I warn you now, and the child will likely make an upsetting noise as well. He will be in terrible pain, even dosed.”

“Is there anything else you can do to help him with the pain?” Lady Sommersby asked desperately.

“Nothing, milady,” he said grimly. “Only hope I don’t have to do this more than once.” He turned to Miranda. “On the count of three, my dear.”

On three, the arm was jerked out, then up, but nothing except William’s cry of pain was heard.

“Hell and damnation,” he spat. “On three, Miranda.” He gave the arm a truly vicious yank. There was a heavy, wet sound as the joint slid back into place and then William screamed, a terrible scream that rose in pitch and intensity until there was no air left in the child’s lungs to carry the sound.

“Give him more laudanum!” Aureen cried, distressed by his obvious pain.

“I cannot, Lady Sommersby. He is weak and it would likely kill him.”

William lay whimpering on the bed, tears squeezing out of his tightly closed eyes. Dominic moved from his former position and went to get the washcloth. He continued his gentle motions with the cloth, wiping away the sweat and tears on William’s face and neck. He had quite a job trying to keep from crying aloud himself at the terrible pain on William’s face. He swiped at the tears on his own cheeks and felt a gentle hand rub his back. He looked up into Bloom’s calm gaze.

“You are a good lad. William is lucky to have a friend such as you right now.” Then he turned to face the others. “His arm and shoulder must be kept immobilized. Bind the limb tightly to his body and put some blankets underneath it so he cannot roll onto that side while sleeping. If his fever remains for longer than five days or if it gets any higher, you’ll need to fetch a doctor.”

He quickly recapped the laudanum and handed it to Miranda. “Try not to give him anymore. If it is unbearable for _him_ ”, he said looking harshly at everyone in the room including Dominic and Matthew, “then you may give him a small dose. Small. No more than four drops in a full glass of water. This will kill him faster than any infection or lasting pain, do you understand me?”

He waited until he’d received nods or affirmatives from all before he went to take his leave.

“Bloom?”

“Yes Lady Sommersby?”

“I do not know what passed between you and my husband, but I will not allow this child to suffer because of it.”

“Very kind of you, milady,” he said, a sad smile accompanying his bow.

She watched him leave with Miranda and Maggie, staring long after the door had closed quietly behind them.

Master’s Chambers

James sighed at the quiet knock. He’d known that Aureen would come looking for answers--he’d reacted badly to the sight of Orlando Bloom in his home again after so many years. He wasn’t ready to talk about it yet, wasn’t sure if he’d ever be ready. All that aside, he truly loved and respected his wife, and had never deliberately turned her away without explanation. He wasn’t going to start now, old pain reawakened or no. He opened the door and sighed heavily as she swept by him in a rustle of skirts.

“What are your intentions towards William?”

“William?” His eyebrows drew down as his brow furrowed. She’d lost him completely.

“The boy upstairs, James. The one you frightened so badly when you slammed into Miranda’s room?”

“I didn’t know his name,” he admitted as he ran his hand through his hair.

Aureen realized she’d seen Bloom do the same thing earlier that evening. She’d thought it odd when he’d done it, and now she knew it was because it had been so similar to her husband’s habit.

“The honest truth is that I didn’t even know there was a child involved at all. Cranston informed me that Bloom was here, and then, to see you and the boys with him – I just wanted him gone.”

“Cranston informed you that Bloom was here?”

“She said Maggie –who is Maggie?—had gone to fetch Bloom, and that he was up in Miss Otto’s room. Frankly, I was going to dismiss the lot of them.”

“Maggie is a scullery maid, James, and frankly,” she said, putting the same inflection on the word he had a moment ago, “I find Cranston’s behavior abhorrent. To know a thing, and willfully disregard it, in order to bring about a self-serving result? I do not need such happenings in my household, most especially not perpetrated by one who is entrusted to run it.” She paused, clearly collecting herself before going on. “All of that will be sorted soon enough. For now, I must ask you again – what are your intentions toward William?”

“He can stay until he can be comfortably moved elsewhere.”

“Where would you have him moved to, James? He was in a workhouse. That means he had no family who could care for him and obviously he’s no good to a workhouse now. To send him away with nowhere to go in his shape is nothing but a death sentence.”

“Don’t work yourself into a tizzy, Aureen. We will find somewhere for him. I know you should like to oversee his complete recovery, but this is not a charity house and none of us are doctors.”

“But Bloom—“

“NO,” he cut her off brusquely. “Orlando Bloom is not an acceptable guest in this house, Aureen. You _will_ yield to my wishes on this, and that is final.”

“What is the reason behind this vehemence?” she asked, narrowed eyes studying her husband closely.

“It is not fit discussion for a Lady,” he said, his voice flat. Final.

“We won’t be discussing it, James. You will tell me so that I can find a way to tell our children why their father has sent away the man who was caring for the boy.”

“God’s life, woman, this is my house and that’s all the reason any of you need!”

Aureen’s eyes widened at his outburst. She’d never seen James act like this before, but it made her sad rather than frightened of him. She moved to him and took one of his hands in one of hers, her free hand rubbing gentle circles between his shoulder blades. She caught a flash of deep pain in his eyes before they slid shut.

“What is this that eats at you, James? Please let me help you.”

“It is an old hurt and there is nothing to be done, my love,” he said on a weary sigh.

“Will you help me to understand?”

“I cannot.”

“Do you want me to go and leave you to your thoughts?”

James turned to face her, the pain still on his face, in his eyes. “No.”

She took her husband in her arms and swore she would get to the root of this issue. She would find out what was broken in James and she would fix it.

Miranda’s Room

Maggie and Miranda stood at the foot of the bed and looked down at the two sleeping boys. They’d all done what they could to make William comfortable, but it had been Dom who’d worn himself out by continually wiping William’s head and neck and petting back the sweaty hair when it stuck to the feverish skin, and by worrying. He’d kept it up for a few hours before he’d finally succumbed to his own exhaustion, the palm of his hand still on William’s shoulder, his fingers still curled lightly around the other boy’s upper arm.

Maggie sighed softly. “Orlando is right. Such a good lad.”

“Maggie,” Miranda said turning to look at the younger maid, “who is William to you?”

“I—“

“Is he yours?” She asked gently.

“No,” Maggie said, taking a deep breath. “He’s not my son. He’s older than he looks. He’d be nine now.”

“Nine? My God, he might even be smaller than Dom!”

Maggie smiled sadly. “I think it’s because he’d been shunted to the workhouse so young. Used as a ‘weep and underfed, I’m not surprised he’s small for his age. Can’t keep getting in chimneys if you grow too big.”

“Who is he to you, then?”

Maggie knew that Miranda would not leave it alone until she’d gotten answers. She looked back down at William, her faced suffused with love, joy and wonder at finding him again. “He’s my brother.”


End file.
